


Accidents Happen

by DeadlyCrocker



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Omorashi, Other, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5159420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyCrocker/pseuds/DeadlyCrocker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A busy day at the Mystery Shack ends with a new kink discovered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidents Happen

**Author's Note:**

> A quick omo drabble with way too much build up

Stanley Pines peered over the rim of his coffee cup, looking out the window of the Mystery Shack. Usually, there wasn’t a whole lot to see; this morning was different.

_Shit._ Stan definitely knew what an angry mob looked like. What had he done _now?_ Well, better lock the doors and pretend he wasn’t home- Wait. Why did they have cameras? Angry mobs didn’t have cameras, and was that _a tour guide?_

That wasn’t an angry mob. It was the beginning of a busy day, right in the middle of tourist season.

The Mystery Shack wasn’t even open for the day yet, and Stan was only half dressed, but he _definitely_ wasn’t about to turn away paying customers. He yanked on his jacket, almost spilling coffee on it as he chugged the remainder of the cup, then slammed his hat onto his head as he dashed for the door.

He stood up tall and proud as he yanked the door open, a big grin on his face. “Welcome to the Mystery Shack, ladies, gentlemen, and, uh… whoever else!”

 

\- - - - -

 

“Thanks for coming, folks! Exit is through the giftshop! Pick up some merchandise for your friends and family!”

By noon the crowd had hardly faltered. It was definitely the height of tourist season, and it was one tour after another. He grabbed a water bottle and chugged it, wiping sweat from his forehead. It was too damn hot for this. He couldn’t imagine why so many people were _there_ instead of at their hotels in front of the air conditioner, but whatever. He wasn’t going to complain about the piles of money they were throwing at him. Cracking open a new water bottle, he went to greet the next group of tourists.

 

\- - - - -

 

It was early afternoon when he began to feel pressure straining at his bladder, and late afternoon when it finally became too intense to ignore. He’d just been so excited and distracted, giving one tour after another, that he’d been ignoring it. It was impossible to ignore now, though. He _had_ to go.

But… a new tour had just started. He shifted and squirmed, eyeing the bathrooms that seemed so far away.

 

\- - - - -

 

Stan waved goodbye to the last group of tourists, though he was quick to slam the door behind them and clutch himself in desperation. He’d already felt himself leak while walking the last few customers to the door though, fortunately, not enough to soak through his pants. Walking was quickly becoming impossible, though. There was no way in hell he’d be able to make it to the bathroom on the other side of the house. The pressure was too much. He was full and desperate, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel kind of good. He had a feeling that letting go would feel even better.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice, anyway. Even standing perfectly still, doubled over with both hands crammed between his legs, it was growing harder and harder to resist that heavy aching. _He couldn’t hold it any longer._

He yanked his hands back with a gasp, narrowly avoiding soaking them in the sudden gush of hot piss. His pants, however, weren’t nearly as lucky. He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything at all besides the pressure slowly lifting from his swollen bladder, the warmth streaming down his legs and puddling at his feet. It felt like it would never stop and, honestly, he didn’t want it to. He was whining with pleasure by the time he was empty, drenched in his own urine.

It should’ve been humiliating, but… It felt _really_ nice. Nicer than he’d expected. Maybe he could hold it for even longer tomorrow… Or maybe he’d fail and piss himself in front of the crowd of tourists. The thought sent chills of excitement down his spine; he was a sucker for public humiliation, as long as it was on his own terms.

But, for now, he needed a mop and a _long,_ hot, shower.


End file.
